


Drown My Sorrows

by zora_kun



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Delusions, Depressing, Depression, Hangover, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, No Happy Ending Fest, Self-Destruction, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25152523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zora_kun/pseuds/zora_kun
Summary: Time doesn’t stop for unrequited love.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Drown My Sorrows

What day was it?

Oikawa couldn’t really be sure. It wasn’t like he cared much. He’d started measuring time differently now anyway:

_Days since I last saw Iwa-chan: 1,876._

Thinking about it made him ache, a deep, dull ache that never left his chest. A wound that wouldn’t heal, a wound that he wouldn’t let heal- because it was this pain, 5 years later, that reminded Oikawa how much he had cared. How much he still cared.

He kept walking. If he stopped for even a moment, the ache would consume him completely. Oikawa was past the days of crying, balled up on the floor. He couldn’t even cry anymore.

Concrete grey buildings passed him by. A light rain brought the smell of earth into the city, merging into exhaust fumes and dissipating until it was like it’d never been there at all. _What am I doing here?_ He wondered, but Oikawa knew it didn’t really matter.

The cold touch of rain on his cheek reminded him of a day long gone by- a day where he stood behind the gym and poured out a lifetime’s worth of feelings. He closed his eyes and let the rain upon his eyelids take him back.

_“Hey, Iwa-chan, I know this seems sort of sudden? And maybe this isn’t really how I planned things to happen-“_

_“Cut the crap, Oikawa. What is this? Some kind of confession?”_

_Iwaizumi had begun to chuckle at his own dumb joke, until he saw the hurt look in Oikawa’s eyes. The taller boy’s facade had crumbled. His voice was barely audible, a hoarse, crackling whisper._

_“I’m so sorry Iwa-chan. I’m so sorry- in my head it was different. I know it could never be a thing, I just thought I’d tell you because you’re really important to me and I know once we go to university I’ll never get another chance to tell you, and-“ Oikawa‘a voice cut out abruptly as tears began to stream down his face._

_”Don’t apologise, please.” Iwaizumi tried to sound certain. He knew somewhere that this time, there was no way to help Oikawa._

_All he could do for now was hold his best friend close. Would that hurt Oikawa? To be called his ‘best friend’?_

_Their tears blended with the falling rain, two silhouettes in white tracksuits._

_“You don’t have to say it, Iwa-chan._

_I already know.”_

Oikawa finished reliving that scene for the thousandth time. He didn’t have the heart to pretend it’d gone differently. Glancing up from the pavement for a moment, he realised he was in an unfamiliar part of town. It was a sort of residential area, full of newlyweds and their children. 

It was a given that Oikawa wouldn’t know an area like this. He avoided seeing happy couples like the plague. 

His feet were starting to drag, so he wandered into an indistinct café. Hushed conversations and softly lit faces were scattered about the room. Oikawa slumped down at the counter, muttering an order for something heavily caffeinated. 

Eyes glazed over, he looked ahead without seeing.

Another man in the café noticed a sort of familiar face, but the flushed youth that he remembered was sapped from it. Gaunt features and sharp cheekbones, overgrown, greasy hair. Dark circles under dead eyes. Clothes hanging from a thin frame, skeletal fingers. Eyes that look, but don’t see a thing. 

They blinked, and in an instant, began to see again. 

A hoarse voice croaked out, “Iwa-chan?”

“Who’s that, darling?” Said the woman opposite Iwaizumi, a hint of concern in her voice. She held a baby in her arms.

“Sorry- wait here a moment,” Iwaizumi blurted out, lurching forward to grab Oikawa’s spindly wrist and pull him out of the café. 

A few minutes later the two men stood opposite one another, in an alleyway just down the street. Their chests rose and fell from the sudden exertion. 

“Oikawa... what happened?” Iwaizumi seemed close to tears at the state of his former friend.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Was Oikawa’s listless response. 

“No, Oikawa- you need to tell me why you’ve let this happen? What happened to volleyball? You could’ve been so much more than this!” The man before Iwaizumi looked so frail. Like the wind might blow him over. 

“I didn’t want to do anything without you.” 

They were only the truth, but those words filled Iwaizumi with anger. 

“Grow up, Oikawa. It was in high school! We’re adults, for God’s sake. Why should I have to live knowing that I’m the reason you’re like this?”

“I’m sorry-“

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Oikawa, it’s been years. I can’t keep saving you from your own self-destructive bullshit now! I’ve moved on, and it’s not my fault that you never did. I’m married! I have kids-“

“I know, I know.” There was nothing Oikawa could do except stand and listen. After all, Iwaizumi was right, wasn’t he?

“No? You don’t know anything at all! Oikawa, you have to get over me. I never loved you like that, and I never will!” 

Iwaizumi stopped. As what he’d just said sunk in, he realised he might’ve gone too far. He unclenched his fists. 

“Hey, I’m sorry- I didn’t mean it, really.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.”

The silence fell heavily between them. The sound of rain against concrete made a window in time. 

Iwaizumi turned to leave.

“Hey... Iwa-chan?” Oikawa’s voice cracked on the syllables of a childhood nickname.

“I promise, you’ll never hear from me again. Can you just do me one last favour?”

“...okay.” 

“Call me Tooru... one more time?”

Iwaizumi paused for a moment. If this would mean that Oikawa could get over him, that Oikawa could be successful like Iwaizumi knew he could, he’d do almost anything.

“Goodbye, Tooru.”

But he knew that’d never be enough.

Oikawa discovered that he could cry again. 

And the sky wept for the both of them.

***

Oikawa stumbled out of the bus, legs unsteady after the long ride home.

Or maybe his legs were unsteady because everything was? His whole life, his very existence, stumbling around like a newborn foal. 

He approached his apartment block, its impersonal greys blending in with the dusk. His head pounded. Oikawa leant against the cold concrete, retching and emptying his guts onto the pavement. Greens, yellows and greys, bile and stomach acid, alcohol. Like an abstract painting on a wretched canvas.

He was sick again.

The last few hours had merged together in poorly remembered bars. The vomit tasted of watery beer. 

Oikawa staggered into his apartment block, dragging his leaden body up two flights of stairs. 

_Am I crying?_

The thought swatted around his brain, like a fly from a nest of maggots. 

Maggot nests don’t have good memories.

He fumbled with his key. 

_If Iwa-chan loved me, he’d be here to let me in._

The thought was banished as he rammed into the door, key finally clicking into place. The apartment was dark. A few takeout boxes lied about. Fallen soldiers on a silent battlefield. They were outnumbered by the alcohol cans strewn about- fighting a losing battle. The rotting boy in the doorway didn’t even see them. 

Oikawa fell limp onto the sofa. It wasn’t welcoming, and it didn’t smell like home. 

_Iwa-chan smells like home._

He was far too tired to stop the thoughts, and they came in floods.

_“Hey, wake up Tooru. You passed out again, dumbass,”_

_The ghost of a smile crossed Oikawa’s face at the phantom name._

_”I brought you coffee. You can’t keep doing this, y’know. I was seriously worried when you ran off like that.”_

_Though his strong features were gruff during his speech, Oikawa could feel the gentle caring that permeated into Iwaizumi’s voice._

_“Sorry, Iwa-chan~ I couldn’t help it if- owwwww...” Oikawa’s sentence trailed off as he felt the familiar pain of a hangover weigh down his body._

_“Shut up. You’re gonna make your headache worse.”_

_Even hungover, the taller boy knew not to mention how gentle and motherly Iwaizumi was being, lest he end up with his coffee all over his face._

_He’d enjoy Iwa-chan’s gentle nagging quietly, for now._

_Sipping his coffee, he felt a strong arm gingerly wrap itself around him. The touch was so surprisingly gentle, a tiny exhale escaped Oikawa’s nose. He leant his head down onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder._

_Sunlight streamed through the half-drawn blinds, illuminating the two of them in an early morning glow. The sofa was well-worn from many embraces, time after time, cosy evening after cosy evening._

_It smelt like home. It smelt like Iwa-chan._

***

A sharp pain jammed itself into the side of Oikawa’s skull. He forced his sleep-crusted eyes open and commanded his body to move. His legs twitched feebly. 

_What time is it?_

The blinds stayed closed. 

It didn’t matter anyway.

“Iwa-cha-“

He called out of instinct, his voice cutting out in the silence of the room. 

The apartment was dark, takeout boxes and alcohol littered the floor. 

There was no coffee cup on the side table. 

The sofa was hard and unforgiving. 

There was no gentle arm over his shoulder.

There was no smell of home.

There was no Iwa-chan.

Oikawa was alone. 

And as he crumpled into a ball, anguished sobs escaped dry lips. Choked wails of-

“I’m alone.

I’m alone.

I’m alone.”

_Days since I last saw Iwa-chan: 1_

_Time will not stop for you._

“I’m alone.”

You are alone.

**Author's Note:**

> ... that was a lot of angst.
> 
> Sorry for making my favourite characters suffer like this- I hope you enjoyed anyway. 
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos if you enjoyed and feel free to leave constructive criticism!


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